


come together

by molerein



Series: darejones [10]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: ... a surprising amount of plot, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, I'd apologise but I'm not actually sorry, Porn With Plot, but it's darejones so what else can you expect, the holy trinity, this wasn't supposed to be as long or as feelsy but I lost control of the narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molerein/pseuds/molerein
Summary: a snowstorm. only one bed. (un)spoken feelings. you can figure out the rest.





	come together

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to do that stuck together with only one bed trope which ends in sex but honestly when are those two not emotional about stuff?  
> enjoy the roller-coaster, and don't forget to let me know what you think <3

in all fairness, this is completely her fault. trying to find out the wheelers' missing daughter ended up being a fucking shitstorm, culminating in the unearthing of a human trafficking ring carefully conducted by cauncellor pietrovich. because nothing in jessica's life is simple. nope, it has to snowball downhill until the problem turns into an avalanche, ready to swallow her whole.

but he didn't have to come with her. matt was under no obligation to drop everything in his life and help her out just because they team up from time to time and she took a bullet for him the week before. asshole let a whole building fall on him to save her, so his whole gratitude thing is misplaced, but whatever.

he came.

and now they're here.

in the middle of nowhere, with a raging snowstorm outside the dingy motel they had managed to crawl into because their ride refused to drive into this weather. it's not like jessica can blame the man - it's practically impossible to see anything in front of your nose but the wall of white, and it shows no sign of stopping.

it doesn't mean she likes it though. the woman at the reception barely looks up from her magazine, popping an obscenely large pink bubblegum balloon, before reaching back to grab the only remaining key and drop it into jessica's expectant hand. she grunts her dismissal at matt's polite thank you.

jessica wouldn't have bothered with it, but hey, he was raised by nuns. politeness has probably been drilled into him or something.

at least he's not in his suit. nope, the bdsm equipment is safely tucked into his backpack, because apparently he does have some common sense. instead, he's wearing a hoodie and jeans and... seeing him so casual makes her heart flutter uncomfortably in her chest. sure, most of their meetings happen when he's all out _hell's kitten,_ but he wears any type of suit like it's armour, just another layer the world has to pry apart to get to unlock his tragic backstory.

she's already done that, thank you very much. she doesn't have the time for other people to tell her the things she needs to know.

the motel is creepy as all hell. it's super old, with peeling wallpaper and a staircase under which she half expects to see the girl from the exorcist. their room isn't doing any better. by the way matt is wrinkling his nose, it's probably moldy, and even she can smell the staleness in the air. she sets down her camera bag on the table, bee-lining towards the window, opening it with a grunt.

her efforts are rewarded with a wave of snow in her face, which totally doesn't help her souring mood.

"there's only one bed," matt chooses this exact moment to say, unhelpfully. she scowls at him, but shuts the windows with a glare.

"congrats, sherlock, need me to give you a gold star for being a smart ass?"

she's cold. and wet. and she just wants to get home to her bottle of whiskey and get payed well for saving all those girls. costa might even smile in that way that he does whenever she manages to do something good in his books. but matt laughs, that startled little sound he makes whenever she's being rude to him and he doesn't know whether it's the funniest thing ever or he should be offended.

"no i - what i meant is that you can take the bed. i'm going to take the floor."

there he goes again, with his cavalier bullshit that never fools anyone. except it does, because everyone they meet seems to think matt is the sweetest person ever. jess knows better.

"don't be an idiot, devil boy," she glares at him again, even though it's totally lost, then starts peeling off her jacket and tank top. "we're both grown ass people. i think we can survive sleeping in the same bed without getting cooties."

and there's that. decision made. or rather, her decision is met with more complaints, until she gets into bed, now divested of her jeans and with a fresh bandage around her thigh, and raises an eyebrow at him.

" murdock. get in bed."

that gets her a smile, at least, if nothing else. but he finally settles on the edge of the mattress, tentatively fingerings the ugly floral quilt. hey, at least he doesn't have to _see_ how much of a dump this place is.

"are you sure -"

jess would find it adorable how his eyebrows twitch into a frown, the way his fingers tense and then relax with bursts of anxiety. but she's tired, and he's making this way harder than it should be. besides, the bed isn't all that bad, if you don't take the colour choices into account. and the room is freezing. the heater wheezes unhelpfully, overpowered by the storm. 

"i'm sure. now get your ass under the blankets or i swear to god i'm going to knock you out."

"bossy, miss jones." that damn smirk is back, but he takes off his glasses, puts them on the nightstand. "are you going to tuck me in?"

jess finds herself caught between a glare and a grin. she reaches out to poke at his ribs, hard enough to hurt, to his apparent delight. fucking masochist. he strips down to his boxers, and she doesn't even try not to stare. 

"no, i'm going to throw you out of the window in the snowstorm and hope you freeze to death."

thing is, she knows where he's coming from. he's probably thinking that he's giving her space for her benefit, because he's read her file and he knows what she's been through. it's nice, but it's also annoying. she doesn't need to be handled with kid gloves. if she didn't want him to sleep in the same bed as her, she would have told him so.

or maybe it's more than that. maybe it has something to do with the way he smiles at her sometimes, bright and easy. or the clients he keeps referring to her, because _'she's the best private investigator he knows.'_ the quiet evenings when they drink in silence on his couch, distance growing shorter and shorter until she's resting her head on his shoulder.

thinking back on it now, she's let him touch her a lot more than she's let anyone touch her in such a short amount of time. or ever. a hand on her arm, her fingers instinctively reaching out to fix his tie or his hair, sitting close together while danny rambles on about things neither of them really care about.

and then it stopped. he stopped reaching out for her, and she had let it slide, because her life is too busy to analyse the moods of a broody dude in fetish gear. they stopped meeting outside the occasional run ins in the night. 

but, and the realisation hits her like a ton of bricks, she misses him. her heart does an uncomfortable little twist in her chest before speeding up. matt, being matt, catches on. and because he _is_ matt, he arrives at the wrong conclusion.

"jess, is okay, i can totally take the floor, no need to do this if it makes you -"

"why did you stop?" she asks, partly to shut him up, partly because if she doesn't ask now she's going to lose all nerve and stew in this forever, which can't be good. jessica turns her head towards him, and sure enough, he's got a startled expression on his face, eyebrows bouncing.

"come again?" the tilt of his head has a puppy dog quality to it. jessica knows better than to think it's anything less than cautionary, a wolf seeking out its prey. who is the predator in this equation, she doesn't know.

"don't play dumb with me, murdock, it's not a cute look on you." there's a threat in her voice, but it's not really the baring of fangs. he catches on anyway, because the play of emotions on his face is a thing of beauty - from shock, to affront, to shock yet again, only to settle into resignation.

"jess, it's late, maybe we should -"

"no, you don't get to do that." she's getting angry now, and the way he's trying to make his tone soft doesn't help matters. "listen, i know i'm not exactly the best person to be around, because honestly i suck, but i thought that..."

she closes her eyes. inhales sharply through her nose. maybe this line of questioning wasn't such a bright idea after all, but now that she's started talking, she's beginning to realise that yes, it's been bothering her for a while.

"i mean, never mind, you were just nice to me because you literally cannot fucking say no to save your life, but i didn't think you'd be the type of coward to just... do whatever the fuck you're doing. not tell me you don't want to hang out. whatever, it's like we're in third grade, forget i ever said anything, go take the floor or something, i don't fucking care."

she hates how her voice gets smaller and smaller until she's nearly whispering. and she wants to be angry at him, but he's looking at her with this expression of utter shock and it's making it harder than it's supposed to be.

"is... is this what you really think, jess?" matt's voice has that gentle quality people usuay use when talking to small children who just got hurt, or wounded animals. jessica is neither, and yet, in this moment, locked away from everything she's comfortable with and buried beneath ugly blankets, she's not so sure.

"well, i mean, why else? we were... friends or something, and then you realised how absolutely fucked up i am. which, honestly, good for you."

"no, jess, that's really not... that's not why..." he cuts himself off with a groan, reaching up to massage at his temples. she watches him, and her chest feels empty. she feels that elevator cable slip from her grasp, the echo of a scream in her throat. it's getting harder to breathe. 

"you know, i had nightmares about you. every night after that. it used to be my family or... _him._ but not anymore." he flinched at that, but she smiles, a brittle little thing, lacking humour. "yeah, i... i dreamed about you, under that building. 'cause i did that."

"jess -"

"no, matt, i did that. danny and luke, they got through, but you were still there. and the whole building was crawling with... with those people, and i had to let it go. had to let that damn elevator go."

"it's not your fault. i... i was trying to save elektra, jess. i wasn't thinking, i just had to save her." 

he's got a pained look on his face, as if every word comes out like he's pulling teeth with his bare hands. she laughs to mask the sniffle, but he can taste the salt of her tears in the air. his hand closes around hers, warm and big and secure, so very alive. 

"you do that. have a thing for hopeless causes, right? even when they fuck you up. when they get you killed." she pauses to take in a deep breath, teeth gnawing at her tongue for a moment, "so hey, maybe it's better that you... decided you want nothing to do with me. and now you're stuck with me here."

the silence grows, fungal spores spreading through the scant space between their bodies, heavy and uncomfortable. his fingers tighten around hers, and she doesn't pull away even though she kinda wants to. 

"that's not why i stopped," he says at long last, voice so quiet she has to strain to hear it. "... hanging out. being around you. it's not why i stopped."

she searches his face in the hollow semi-darkness, trying to read his expression. for once, ever since meeting him, she can't, and it unsettles her. "then why?" it's a simple question, but it comes out as weak, the tremble in her voice barely there but present, almost, in her whole body. from the ache in her chest to the warmth his hand smears across her skin.

"i, ah... i'm not good with this." 

"matt, you know you can tell me anything, right? i'm not saying i'm not gonna judge you or anything, but you know -"

"i like you." she clasps her mouth shut at that, eyes widening, as if that would somehow help her decipher the meaning behind his words. but the meaning is there, staring at her impatiently, glaringly obvious. like a neon sigh lit up above his head. what she cannot do is process that meaning - let it sink in. "actually... it's more than that. i think i'm falling for you."

she can hear the humming of electricity, the heater whirring, the storm outside. and, above all that, her blood rushing to her rabbit heart, ringing in her ears.

"i... you - you what?"

the pounding of her heart gets worse. he gives her a little shrug, then a weak smile, pulling at her hand until it rests on his chest. his heartbeat isn't quite as fast as hers, but it's not steady either.

she tastes fear on her tongue, red hot and pulsing, sending tremors though her body, to her brain, to everywhere and nowhere, overwhelming as it is. 

(deep, deep in the bowels of her brain, there's a purple prison with a purple prisoner and his purple words are laced with poison: tell me you love me, jessica.)

"i'm falling for you," he says, his voice careful and soft, his heart speeding up under her hand. she notices the lack of the _l word_ \- the gentle way in which he bares himself to her, brown eyes sweet and honest and unguarded. has she told him, she wonders? or maybe that's all just matt, always so damn considerate with how to walk around her without making it feel like he's walking on eggshells.

"why?" she asks, for a lack of better questions, not when time itself seems to slow down to a stop in this little corner they weren't supposed to be in. 

he laughs, then shakes his head and pulls her closer, "because you're great? no, you are. you don't give a fuck about what anyone thinks about you, sure, and you drink way too much, but you're great jess. and so very brave." 

she squirms, uncomfortable under new revelations, and he shifts with her, allowing her breathing space. like liquid molding around her iron fortress. 

"but ah..." his turn to grimace now, and she can tell he's trying to focus on anything but her body next to his, "i don't have the best track record with stuff like this, you know? i've got baggage, and most of the things in my past aren't pretty. but i'm... trying to -"

"murdock, shut the fuck up." it comes out like a growl, the animal trapped between her ribs baring its teeth. he promptly does as he's told, jaw tense, but his expression transforms into one of confusion as soon as she moves to straddle his hips.

"you're so fucking infuriating," she says, then kisses him. 

it's not soft - there's very little softness left inside her, but he is eager to respond to the demands of her tongue with his own. his hands fly to her hips, squeezing, the battle of dominance raging on. outside the window, the flurry of snow turns the whole world murky white. she moans into his mouth.

she tastes like fear and whiskey, all that power in her veins making matt feel drunk. 

"jess..." his fingers, now in her hair, tug at the strands to get her to unlatch from his lips.

"i said shut up, matt." it's a straight up warning this time, her hips grounding down into his. he throws his head back, lashes fluttering shut. he's pretty like this: lips swollen from her gnawing and cheeks flushed, so she takes a moment to admire the picture he paints. trembling, her knuckles brush against his cheek, his own fingers coming up to wrap around her hand.

it's a heartbeat between them. a moment when nothing else matters, her breath stuck in her throat and her chest expanding with something she can't put a name on.

then his free hand squeezes her ass and the urgency of the moment crashes back into her, like a tidal wave unrooting her from the shore. 

"as you wish, miss jones." 

that smirk of his will really be her undoing. 

the hand on her ass moves, one finger hooking into the crotch of her panties, knuckle rooting around until he finds her clit, and she nearly jumps off the bed. it's been a while since she's had anyone, and when she did, it wasn't like this. for jessica, it's always hard and fast, fuck a faceless shadow into the mattress and then disappear into the night. 

there's nowhere to disappear to. he turns his hand, palm upwards, plunges two fingers into her. 

"fuck, you're wet." 

she whimpers, hips twitching as if to urge him for more without words. he pulls back instead, bringing his fingers to her mouth, smearing her lips with her arousal. she sucks them in, twirling her tongue around, tastes herself and the salt of his skin, then releases them with a obscene pop. his index finger catches against her bottom lip, wipes saliva on her cheek. 

"get on your back, sweetheart." she'd roll her eyes at him, but his hands find her hips once again and he flips her over and fuck - yeah, that's kinda hot, the way he's not careful with her, the agility in his movements. 

above her, illuminated from behind, it looks like matt is glowing - a halo of light wrapped around his body like a shroud. the irony of it isn't lost to jessica.

but then his lips find her nipple, biting down on the swollen bud, and all coherent thought leaves her brain. 

she reaches between their bodies, fingers ghosting over him, hard and hot and straining in the confines of his boxers. the moan he rewards her with is borderline pornographic, so she wraps her hand around him, gives an experimental squeeze. 

it doesn't deter him from his task, though. tongue swirling around her left breast, his fingers find her neglected nipple and pinch, hard. her grunt has him grinning against her skin. she's pretty sure her chest is painted purple, and even though they'll be gone in a couple of hours, she finds she doesn't mind them. if anything, it only turns her on more. one of his knees presses between her thighs, her legs parting in invitation. it feels so fucking good, his hands and mouth all over her, seemingly all at once, but she needs more, she needs -

he pulls down her underwear, throws the useless scrap of fabric somewhere over his shoulder. his trail of bruises continues on south, stopping at her navel to dip his tongue in. her fingers fly to his hair, grip firm but not enough to be painful, and he nips at her hip bone. dexterous fingers part her folds, the cold air rendering her almost too sensitive, and he leans down to press a kiss into her uninjured thigh. then sinks his teeth in just for good measure. she's panting and he hasn't even touched her where she needs him. 

"matt -"

"shhh, i've got you. i've got you, jess." he whispers. it's strangely comforting. he kisses the spot he'd just bit into, almost reverently, then moves his mouth, his tongue circling around her bundle of nerves, his fingers back inside her and... 

she's falling. there's no air in her lungs, almost screams with the intensity of it all. it feels red hot on her skin, all of her nerves on fire, walls fluttering around his fingers. he helps her ride the waves, tongue flat over her cunt, humming in encouragement. 

there's a bang on the wall, a male voice yelling something in a language she can't quite decipher.

"guess we'll have to be quiet," the bastard qips, his grin bright and boyish as he tilts his head back from between her thighs, face glistening with the evidence of what just went down. 

"matt, i swear to god, if you don't -" 

she doesn't get to finish the threat, because his lips wrap around her clit, sucking harshly. there's another finger slipping in, pumping in and out of her steadily, his tongue circling and prodding. she bites her lip so hard she can taste blood. she's still recovering from the previous orgasm, but the pain only fuels her arousal, aids in getting her to the peak.

his fingers curl, seeking for that spot deep inside her - when they find it, she cries out, muffled by the back of the hand she's haphazardly thrown over her mouth. it's probably not nearly enough to drown out the sound, but she doesn't care. he's eating her out like she's his last meal, the least she can do is provide auditory stimuli. 

"c'mon, give it to me," he rasps out, his breath fanning across her, and she does, tiny explosions behind her closed eyelids, body trembling and limp at the same time. the release hits her almost like a slap in the face, mind going blank, the aborted sound of his name on the tip of her tongue.

he crawls up her body, his lips finding hers, the taste of her arousal on his tongue. its slower than their previous kiss. matt is unhurried, his tongue caressing the seams of her lips before pushing inside, the playful nip against her bottom lip. she can't breathe. hasn't quite breathed right since this whole thing started.

but they're far from being done - their annoyed neighbour will soon find out. once she's in control of her limbs again, she reaches for his hips, pulling down at his briefs until his cock can spring free. he gets the hint, and soon, they're both naked and flushed.

he's not big enough to make her uncomfortable, but he's hot and pulsing as she wraps her fingers around him, guiding him to her entrance, and when he pushes into her slowly, he stretches her with a pleasant burn. she echoes his moan once he's fully seated inside her.

he starts slow, a few shallow thrusts, his lips brushing over her throat, but she's nothing if not impatient. her nails dig into his shoulder blades, racking down his back so harsh she's pretty sure they'll leave a mark, and he catches the hint because soon he's speeding up, harsh and arrhythmic, punches out whimpers out of her with every forward motion.

his hand finds her throat, fingers wrapping around the delicate column and she knows how strong he is, has seen him in action before, wild and untamed, the devil peeking through the cracks in his facade. he squeezes, gentle and then not-so-gentle and suddenly she's putty in his hands, writhing and moaning and meeting him thrust for thrust. she tilts her head back, which he takes as an encouragement, tongue licking into her mouth, nose brushing away the stray tear on her cheek. her lungs are burning. everything is on fire. 

it's not gentle, but neither is the fusion of atoms together. souls crashing into each other, sweat and blood on their tongue. he finds her clit, rolls it between two fingers, her mouth hot at his shoulder when she bites down. the headboard hits the wall with such a force she's sure it'll leave dents.

she's so, so close, didn't think she'd be able to come again after everything else, but then he's biting at her nipple, fingers unrelenting, pace bordering on punishing, and he doesn't get her to the edge, he fucking pushes her into the chasm, a scream he muffles with his palm. he doesn't last much longer, her walls closing on him and milking him until he falls on top of her with a gasp.

when she opens her eyes to find his face hovering over hers, his smile is so bright it's blinding. jessica huffs, reaches up to brush back a few strands of hair the sweat has stuck to his forehead, and he nuzzles into her palm like a cat.

"i like you too, you idiot." 

the kiss he gifts her with is entirely worth it. 

in the morning, the storm is still going strong. matt has found some coffee somewhere, and it's half-decent, especially as she sits with his arms curled around her and buried under the pile of blankets. her phone is dying, but she can't be bothered to move to plug it into the charger. 

"pietrovich is in custody, and they got the girls out in time. it says the storm won't let up for at least three more days," she tells him, tilting her head to the side to give him room to mouth at her pulse point, lips tracing the bruises there with startling accuracy.

"oh no," his tone is deadpan, prying away her phone to link their fingers instead, bringing their joined hands to his mouth, a kiss brushed across her wrist, "whatever will we do?"

(whatever it is, their neighbour one wall over won't like it.) 


End file.
